


Battered Cakes

by marvelling



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-08 05:07:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1927740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvelling/pseuds/marvelling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve got bored and tried to bake.<br/>It was a disaster so naturally, he turns to the man who knows everything and can do anything: Tony Stark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Battered Cakes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [another one for Holly](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=another+one+for+Holly).



> As a baker, I'd like to answer Steve's 'How hard can it be?'  
> The answer is sometimes very hard.  
> I like to work in dialogue, and I think it kinda works where Tony Stark is involved.  
> Enjoy!

Steve ambled around his apartment, bored out of his mind. He stopped at the window, sighing as he took in the flooded little plant pot on his balcony and its sad looking petunias. The soldier began pacing, before flopping down on his sunken leather couch and reluctantly turning on his TV. The channels flicked by at a steady pace for a good five minutes before Steve finally gave up and left it on the Food Network where the Cake Boss was yelling at his irritating sisters.

 

Curious, Steve hauled himself off the couch and made his way to the kitchen, raking through his cupboards.

 

Flour: check.

Sugar: check.

Eggs: check.

Butter: check.

 

He shrugged, smirking to himself. _What the hell. How hard can it be?_

_***_

 

“Yello?!” Tony spun around in his office chair and skidded to a halt in front of his numerous computer screens.

 

“You can do everything, right?” Steve’s voice sounded strained through the phone.

 

“Yep,” Tony replied.

 

“Get over here.”

 

The billionaire rolled his dark eyes. “Do I need to bring back up?”

 

“It’s probably not smart to bring Bruce.”

 

“What the hell have you done now, Cap?”

 

Steve groaned. “Will you shut up and get over here?!”

 

“Sir, yes, sir!” Tony barked, saluting as he ended the call and headed for the garage.

 

He paused a moment, admiring his collection of overpriced cars. “None of you deserve to go to Brooklyn. I’ll get Happy.”

 

***

Steve wrenched open his door and yanked Tony inside before the billionaire could utter a word.

 

“What the hell took you so long?”

 

“I wasn’t going to risk bringing one of my cars to Brooklyn- do I smell burning?” he pushed his unnecessary sunglasses to the end of his nose and gave Steve one of his condescending tilted head looks.

 

Steve crossed his arms defensively, refusing to meet Tony’s dark eyes.

 

Tony swiftly removed his glasses and coat, throwing them down on the couch. He rolled up his sleeves and clapped his hands together. “Oh please tell me your kitchen is on fire.”

 

The soldier glared at him. “It’s not exactly on fire.”

 

“Show me!” Tony didn’t wait and let himself into the bombsite that was Steve’s kitchen.

 

Every worktop had a layer of white flour coating it and the reek from the oven made Tony’s eyes burn. “This is fucking priceless!” he howled, taking photos with his phone. “Oh god, I’m glad I didn’t bring Bruce. Good god Steve, what the hell did you put in that oven?!”

 

Tony was a tornado, speaking at a hundred miles an hour and delighting in the disorder and chaos of the room. Steve couldn’t help but smile at him. He loved it when Tony was excited, even if it was because he now had something else he could use to make fun of Steve.

 

“It was a cake,” Steve told him.

 

“It was _meant to be_ a cake,” Tony corrected. “This is brilliant. I’m so fucking glad you called. Jesus, this has made my week.” He snorted as he examined the black mess in the sink. “Is that the so-called _cake_?” he couldn’t stifle his bark of laughter.

 

Steve clenched his jaw as Tony picked up a knotted spoon and shook his head, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes as he laughed. Suddenly he stopped, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

 

“Is that…” he whispered. “CAKE BATTER ON THE CEILING?!” he roared, unable to control himself as he doubled over.

 

The soldier rolled his eyes. Why the hell did he put up with this jerk? “Will you help me bake a new one or not?”

 

Tony arched an eyebrow as he took Steve’s face in his hand. “Let the master show you how it’s done, my dear captain.” He planted a fleeting kiss on Steve’s lips before setting about clearing a counter space.

 

Steve stood back as Tony whirred around the kitchen, gathering every utensil under the sun, ‘Just in case.’ He bit his lip and shook his head as he watched the dark haired man crack his knuckles and roll his shoulders.

 

“Ready?” Tony asked, eyes bright.

 

“When you are, Stark.” Steve shrugged, recognizing Tony’s fierce determination.

 

_He’s never baked a cake in his life._ Steve realized with glee.

 

“Here’s the recipe,” Steve offered Tony the book, trying to contain his knowing smirk.

 

The billionaire scoffed at the book and snatched it from Steve’s hand. “Where we’re going, we don’t need recipes.” He tossed the book over his shoulder and it landed a few feet away with a loud thud.

 

Steve arched an eyebrow skeptically but held up his hands in a surrender. “Lead the way,” he laughed.

 

Tony whipped his iPod out of his pocket and connected it to the speaker. AC/DC blared. Steve rolled his eyes.

 

***

“I DON’T FUCKING UNDERSTAND!”

 

“I TOLD YOU TO USE THE DAMNED RECIPE!”

 

“IT’S BASIC FUCKING-”

 

“IT’S OBVIOUSLY NOT BASIC OR YOU, THE GREAT TONY STARK, WOULD SURELY BE ABLE TO DO IT!”

 

“EXCUSE ME, BETTY FUCKING CROCKER!”

 

“DON’T CALL ME BETTY CROCKER!”

 

The apartment door burst open, followed by Clint stumbling in and almost falling over. Natasha smoothly walked past him and snatched the iPod off the speaker. The kitchen was silent.

 

“What the FUCK IS GOING ON?” she demanded, staring the flour covered men down with her icy glare.

 

“Steve can’t bake for shit,” Tony muttered.

 

Steve closed his eyes and clenched his fists. “So help me god, Stark…”

 

Clint appeared behind Natasha munching Doritos. “Is something on fire?”

 

Natasha arched an eyebrow at him.

 

“Smells like something’s on fire,” he explained, shrugging and walking off.

 

She shook her head and turned back to Steve and Tony. “You’re both a fucking mess and the neighbours are complaining.” She snapped. “Get your shit together.”

 

Steve glared down at Tony, who mumbled something Natasha obviously chose to ignore.

 

“Clint!” she was already out the door when Clint scrambled off the couch after her.

 

A second later he came back, throwing the empty Doritos bag in the kitchen before disappearing again.

 

Steve and Tony stared at each other for a while.

 

“Wanna have sex?” Tony suggested.

 

Steve rolled his eyes and left the room.

 

“Is that a no?” The billionaire called, waiting for a reply. “Steve? Steven?”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Steve/Tony and as always I welcome any constructive criticism, especially when it comes to characterisation.  
> I tried to do Tony justice and picturing Robert Downey Jr acting this out made me smile a hell of a lot and I hope it does for you too.  
> Thanks for reading, hope you liked it!


End file.
